


look through the windows of this love (even though we boarded them up)

by pirateygoodness



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canada, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Campfires, F/F, First Time, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:14:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21888742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirateygoodness/pseuds/pirateygoodness
Summary: Lena gets out of bed. She's wearing her pyjamas, and they're the ones she went to bed in - silk pants and a camisole - but that seems to be the only familiar thing in the room. There's a suitcase open by the window. Lena walks to it, rifles through the top layer. They feel like things that could be hers, in her size, but none of them are pieces she actually owns. There's a sweater on top, black wool, and she slips it on over her pyjamas to keep warm while she explores.On the table is a binder, leather with a gold-embossed logo:The Stardust Inn. She flips through it. It looks like a hotel directory, but she's never heard of the inn that she's apparently staying at, or the small Canadian town that the directory tells her is30 minutes away by car."What the hell is this?" she whispers to herself.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 41
Kudos: 491
Collections: Supergirl Femslash Secret Santa 2019





	look through the windows of this love (even though we boarded them up)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sgafirenity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sgafirenity/gifts).



> For user sgafirenity as part of supergirlfemslashsecretsanta. The prompts I had to work with were "first Christmas together" and "camping" and this is. . .kind of neither of those, and kind of both of those smushed together. Heavily inspired by the Vanessa Hudgens Netflix Cinematic Universe, because sometimes we all need the weird wizard of falling in love at Christmas to help us with our problems. Think of it as an alternate ending to episode 5.08. 
> 
> Title from "Death by a Thousand Cuts" by Taylor Swift but I swear this fic is soft. Thank you to @falsealarm for beta reading and cheerleading.

Lena wakes up in a bed that's not her own. 

"Hope," she calls out to the empty room. "Where are we?" 

There's no answer. She's only had Hope for a few months but already her absence is enough to send a shiver of anxiety down Lena's spine. Hope is her security system, her safety net, her constant companion. Lena is somewhere strange, alone, and nobody is here to protect her. She sits up. 

The space looks like a hotel room. The bed underneath her is soft, queen-sized, with soft sheets and a duvet the familiar crisp white that seems to be the hallmark of all hotel linens. The room itself is rustic, wood floors with warm area rugs in reds and browns. The walls are painted a dark colour, with exposed wood and brick accents. Everything is extremely tasteful, and gives the impression of being woodsy and outdoorsy yet somehow also very expensive. 

In another life, this might be the sort of place Lena went for a holiday. 

She gets out of bed. She's wearing her pyjamas, and they're the ones she went to bed in - silk pants and a camisole - but that seems to be the only familiar thing in the room. There's a suitcase open by the window. Lena walks to it, rifles through the top layer. They feel like things that could be hers, in her size, but none of them are pieces she actually owns. There's a sweater on top, black wool, and she slips it on over her pyjamas to keep warm while she explores. 

On the table is a binder, leather with a gold-embossed logo: _The Stardust Inn_. She flips through it. It looks like a hotel directory, but she's never heard of the inn that she's apparently staying at, or the small Canadian town that the directory tells her is _30 minutes away by car._ "What the hell is this?" she whispers to herself. 

Nobody answers.

The rest of the room is empty. It's nice, clearly a suite. There's a large bathroom, neatly kept, and a sitting room off the bedroom with a wood-burning fireplace that's clearly meant to be used. The woodpile nearby is fully stocked, and there are fresh ashes underneath the grate, as if she - or someone - had made a fire last night. 

Lena looks out the window, next. The view from her room - or cabin, maybe, she's at ground level - is spectacular. At least she has good taste. She's in the woods, and it's winter. It's clearly snowed recently; the trees are covered in a thick layer of heavy snow, so perfect that it doesn't feel real. It looks like the inside of a snow globe, or a holiday card: everything sugar-frosted and perfect. 

The building that she's in isn't the only one. There's a road covered in packed snow that ends in a loop, with this building and a few others oriented to face it. Lena can recognize the telltale storefront of a small-town gift shop, an office labeled _reception_ , another building that seems like it might contain rooms a lot like this one. 

In the distance, there's a footpath, leading out past a wood pile where someone's chopping fresh firewood, and snaking into the woods. She blinks, takes a closer look at the person with the axe, by the firewood. The haircut is a bit different, and she's pretty sure she's never seen that coat before, but there's no mistaking that blonde hair and look of determination. "Kara," Lena whispers to herself. 

She doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Of course she'd wake up somewhere strange, with no memory of how she arrived, and Kara Danvers would be involved. 

Lena gets dressed in what she feels should be counted as record time. Considering the situation, and the fact that _getting dressed_ involved searching an entire stranger's room for an appropriate pair of trousers, boots, and a coat, she feels like she's doing pretty well. 

(Everything in the suitcase is the right size, and the tag on the suitcase reads _Lena Luthor_ , but nothing inside is an item she owns. It feels like a stranger's suitcase, like another version of herself packed for a vacation.) 

The ground is a little slippery as she walks out of her room. The door leads directly to the outside, a short path connecting her to the road and the footpath. The snow is packed tightly, and it's cold enough that it crunches gently under her feet as she walks as briskly as is dignified to get an explanation for whatever the _hell_ is going on. 

"Kara," she says. "Kara, what on _earth_ -" Lena begins, before stopping cold. 

The woman in front of her smiles. Her face is exactly, eerily like Kara's, but it doesn't feel like her. It feels like a Kara from another time, or another world - her smile moves with all the muscles that Kara's would, but something about it is different. There's a slowness to her movements, a deliberateness in the way she holds the axe. She rests it on the block she's using to cut firewood, safety first, and steps away to speak to Lena. This version of Kara doesn't move like she's invulnerable. "That's exactly right," Not-Kara says. "How did you know?" 

Lena frowns. "Kara - Danvers?" 

Not-Kara shrugs. "That's me. You're one of the guests, right? What's your name?" 

Lena blinks. She woke up in a strange bed, with no memory of arriving, with a Kara Danvers who _isn't_ Kara Danvers, who doesn't seem to know who she is. Of course she'd finally be able to prove the existence of the theorized multiverse and not be able to tell anyone interesting. "Lena," she says. She forces her voice to sound calm, makes sure that she smiles in a way that seems sociable and pleasant. "Lena Luthor." 

"Can I help you with anything, Miss Luthor?" There's a kindness to Kara's voice, a genuine eager question that makes Lena think of Kara in those months when they first met. And just like then, she feels herself being put at ease despite her better judgement. Even this version of Kara is more charming than she has the right to be. 

"No," Lena says. "I, um. Didn't sleep well last night. I think I got you mixed up with someone else." 

Kara shrugs. "You're sure you don't need anything?"

Lena shakes her head to the negative. "I'm fine," she says. "Thank you." 

"Well," Kara says, reaching for her axe once more. "Have a good day, Miss Luthor." 

+

She gives herself a day. 

A day seems like enough time to do research, to sort out what's happening and how she got here and what this Kara's agenda might be. She searches the room a second time. There's nothing suspicious about it at all. No hidden panels, no weapons, no ransom notes from her mother or brother or anyone else in her family who might use kidnapping as a communication tool. 

This Lena has a cell phone and the only thing of note in its contents is, embarrassingly, the collected works of Taylor Swift. There are no incriminating text messages. Andrea Rojas wished this Lena a nice vacation, and sent a selfie of herself with a man that Lena recognizes as Russell Rogers. Andrea's wearing an engagement ring. They look happy. This Lena doesn't know Alex Danvers, or Kara Danvers, or Nia Nal or any of the superfriends. She seems perfectly normal, here in the woods in Canada for a normal holiday, all on her own. 

She searches the hotel next. Looks for suspicious guests, hidden boardrooms, staff members who might be half-alien cyborgs bent on revenge. By mid-afternoon, she's exhausted herself. Everything is just so - normal. It's painfully ordinary, and if Lena's being honest, pretty boring. 

She checks Lex's watch, experimentally. 

The transmat portal doesn't work. She's trapped. That seems about right for today. Trapped on a strange earth with nobody to talk to except an alternate version of her - _friend_ doesn't feel like the right word. Her ex-friend, her sort-of-friend, her ex-sort-of-almost-something-more. Her Kara. 

Trapped with no discernible way of getting home. 

There's a knock on the door to her room. It startles Lena more than it probably should. 

She looks through the peep hole in the door. On the other side is Kara, red-cheeked and breathless from the cold. Lena sighs. A wave of unnameable emotion, a complex blend of affection and dread, passes over her. 

She opens the door.

Kara smiles when Lena greets her. It's not quite right, but it's close enough that Lena feels comforted by it, despite her best efforts. "Miss Luthor," she says. It's cold enough that her words make a little puff of fog in front of her face. "How's your stay so far?"

 _Terrible, because I didn't book this vacation at all,_ is what Lena's heart screams. But this Kara doesn't seem to know anything, and there's no sense in looking desperate. "It's lovely, thank you," is what she says. 

Kara jerks her thumb backward, gesturing over her shoulder to where Lena sees a little vehicle, like a cross between a two-seat riding lawnmower and a golf cart, parked on the edge of the road. There's a platform behind the driver's seat that's stocked with the wood Kara was chopping earlier. "Just checking to see how you're doing for firewood, or if there's anything else you need." 

"No, I'm alright," Lena says.

There must be something in the way she speaks, a wobble to her voice she wasn't quite successful in hiding because Kara pauses in the doorway. "Hey. This might be out of line, so feel free to say no, but - do you need some company?" 

Lena blinks. "Why would you think that?" 

Kara shrugs. "Well, it's December twenty-third and you're in the mountains, by yourself, doing nothing. Maybe that's your thing, I don't want to intrude but - look. The hotel's doing this thing, there's a bonfire down the trail in the woods. I've gotta go set it up and get the fire going, and it gets a bit quiet out there by myself, so. Maybe you'd like to join me?" 

This feels familiar. It feels like something they've done before, and Lena has a sudden memory of blonde hair and a soft smile and more appetizers than either of them could ever finish. It hits her like a blow to the chest. 

She hesitates. Kara takes it as an answer. "No problem," she says, her smile just a little sadder. "Have a wonderful day, Miss Luthor." 

The sight of Kara leaving takes Lena's breath away. She shouldn't want this. She shouldn't care what this Kara - or any Kara - thinks of her. But before she can tamp down on her impulses she finds herself reaching out, her fingertips brushing against the soft canvas of Kara's coat as she says, "Wait." 

Kara pauses. 

"You know, I think I might like some company today," she says. "Let me get my coat." 

The little cart has two seats, both exposed to the elements. Kara offers Lena an arm as she climbs up onto the free one. She's smiling; possibly at Lena's more formal wool coat in contrast to Kara's leather-and-canvas work clothes. "What?" Lena asks. She doesn't mean for it to come out sharply, but there's an edge to her voice, the way there always is when she feels a bit self-conscious. 

"I've never had someone look this fancy riding the mule before," she says. 

For a moment, Lena is speechless. It's too disorienting. To go from a relationship with her Kara that's painful and awful right now to this version of her who smiles easily and - sort of seems like she's flirting. She's torn. Her instinct is to keep her guard up. This Kara seems trustworthy, but Lena doesn't have any reason to believe she is what she seems, and she's been hurt so many times before. 

But Kara - this Kara, not-Kara - is looking at her with attentive interest, the corners of her eyes collapsing into the soft crinkles that Lena's always found so lovely. Lena suddenly feels so tired of being upset with her. She's tired of not having her best friend, tired of being angry and hurt all the time, and - maybe it's alright. Maybe just this once, it would be okay to indulge in the fantasy that people can be who they say they are. "Well," she says. She reaches out, rests her hand on Kara's arm through the canvas of her coat. "There's a first time for everything, isn't there." 

Kara blushes, ducks her head away as she starts the mule. Lena feels an answering flicker of warmth inside herself. It's Christmas. She's earned a little treat. 

+

Everything is just too soft here. If Lena were less worn out, she'd find it deeply suspicious. 

Not that she doesn't - _obviously_ it's suspicious. She woke up in a strange world, with strange people, in a life that another version of her is leading. It's the most suspicious thing she's ever seen. But there's something about this place. 

The mountain air is clear and crisp, and as they drive, a fresh snowfall begins. Even with the mechanical sound of the mule as it bounces them along the path, the snow makes the world feel quiet. As they drive, the fresh snow lands on the trees around them, filling in gaps to their snow cover and frosting over the green of the landscape. Every so often, Lena will catch a flash of movement in the trees around them, followed by a sudden glimpse of a squirrel or bird. 

Despite herself, Lena starts to relax. 

It's difficult not to. This place is so perfect, the clouds might as well be made of cotton candy - for all she knows, they might be. Beside her, Kara is smiling. Her eyes are facing forward, but every so often when the road straightens out, Lena catches Kara's eyes dart towards her, stealing a look. Kara's cheeks are red from the cold and the wind, and her hair, pulled back in a messy braid and tucked under her collar, is starting to come loose. 

Lena refuses to find it attractive.

They stop driving in a clearing at the end of the path. The space is more than large enough for them to park the mule off to the side and still have lots of room for guests to visit. In the center of the clearing is a large, cast-iron cage, ringed by logs fashioned into seats. There are still ashes left in the bottom of it, remnants of previous bonfires. 

"Well," Kara says, bouncing out of her seat and around the back of the mule. "Here we are." 

"I can see that," Lena says. 

She turns in her seat, and watches as Kara starts to haul firewood. She does it two logs at a time, one in each hand, walking them over to a little platform next to the fire pit. Next, she produces some newspaper, and an axe. 

(There's a moment where Lena thinks it: this could be the beginning to a horror film. Out all alone in the woods with an axe-wielding stranger, and no way home. But it doesn't feel like that at all. There's no unease creeping up the back of her neck, no nervousness tight in her chest. And even her Kara, for all that she's been untrustworthy, has never been unsafe like that.) 

Lena watches as Kara sets one of the smaller logs onto one of the seats, sets it up so that it's steady. Kara looks up, searches for Lena and nods when she notices her still sitting in the mule. As though she's making sure she knows that Lena's safe and out of the way. It's probably a bit of a stereotype, being attracted to a strong woman chopping firewood, but Lena's not made of stone. 

Kara brings the axe down, splitting the log into smaller and smaller pieces. Lena definitely doesn't notice the way that her breath forms little clouds of steam as she exhales a little more heavily from the effort of it. And she doesn't notice the little noises Kara makes every time the axe comes down, soft grunts of - concentration, maybe, rather than effort. She doesn't notice the way strands of hair fall out of Kara's braid entirely and swing forward in front of her face, or the way that makes her seem even prettier than usual. 

She keeps not noticing until the log in front of Kara is kindling. 

Kara pauses, looking up and brushing her hair back from her eyes. "Hey, Luthor," she says. "Come over. You're going to freeze up there by yourself." 

"Lena," she says, as she eases herself down off of the mule. "Please, call me Lena." 

"Lena," Kara echoes, her mouth twitching like she's holding back a grin. "I can do that." 

Lena perches on one of the logs closest to the fire pit. It's cold out here, and the fire will be a welcome help once it's built. She watches as Kara spends half an hour coaxing the wood into a small fire and then a warm, roaring blaze in the cast-iron cage. She uses matches, like a regular person. Lena half-expects her to use heat vision. 

(She doesn't know why. All evidence points to this Kara being human.)

(But then, all evidence did before, or at least she thought, and she's not going to let herself get caught again.)

Once the fire is established, Kara sits next to Lena on her log. It's a little too low to the ground; Lena has her legs stretched out in front of her but Kara sits with her knees bent and folds herself forward to rest her chin against them. "I made fire," she says.

Lena chuckles. "As promised." 

"You warm enough?" Kara asks. 

The question takes Lena by surprise. She is, sort of - the wind at her back is chilly but the fire is starting to warm the air in front of her, and the balance is good enough. "Yes," she says. "Thank you for asking." 

There must be something in how she says it, a tell in the tone of her voice, because Kara frowns. "You seem distracted. Everything okay?"

Lena can't quite stop the laugh that escapes her. It comes out bitten-off, a sharp laugh that ends too soon, a little pained. _Is everything okay._ She doesn't even know where to begin.

"No, seriously," Kara says. "You want to talk about it?" 

"Have you ever heard of the multiverse theory?" 

Kara shakes her head, no. Lena starts to explain. 

It feels like she talks for hours. It's probably minutes, maybe ten or fifteen of Lena just spilling out - everything. Well, most of everything. Kara, and Kara's betrayal, and the fallout and the strange bed and being here and the physics of the multiverse and once she starts it feels like she can't stop. 

(She has the wherewithal to hold back, a little. She doesn't talk about the way she reacted after she found out, not fully. She doesn't talk about her plan to expose Kara at the awards ceremony, or Hope, or the way Lex's base nearly killed her and Lena almost couldn't stop it.)

But she says enough. Enough that it's cathartic. Now that she's talking, she realizes how long it's been since she's been honest with an actual human person, and the relief of it is - if she doesn't keep talking, she thinks she might cry, and that's unacceptable. 

When she's done, Kara leans back and stretches her legs out. The tips of her boots touch Lena's ankles; her gloved hands are bracing her on the snow behind them. "That's a lot," she says. 

"Yeah," Lena says. "It's been a stressful month." 

Kara laughs out loud at that, big and bright and despite herself, Lean finds herself laughing along. Her life is ridiculous, at least on paper, and laughing about it feels sort of good. "Anything else?" Kara says. "An uncle abducted by aliens, maybe?" 

Lena shrugs, says, "Not exactly. Although, I was wondering - are you from Krypton on this earth?" 

It's a calculated risk, but then: she's trapped here with no resources, no friends, and no way home. It's not like she has a lot to lose. 

Kara bursts out laughing again. It's an honest laugh, one from deep in her belly and Lena feels herself flush with annoyance. "What's Krypton?" Kara says. "Is that like a men-are-from-Mars sort of thing? Or are you trying to ask me if I like to date women?" 

Lena sighs. She's trying to maintain her composure; being wrong makes her feel exposed in the worst possible way. "It's a real place. And I don't know why you were so accepting of parallel earths, but alien worlds are the last straw. They're both equally unusual." 

Kara giggles. She seems honest. She seems genuinely, earnestly, honestly like she has no idea what Lena is talking about and Lena's not sure if that makes this better or worse. "On my earth, my Kara - she's from space. From a planet called Krypton. Are you not?" 

Kara clicks her tongue. She looks down, fidgeting with the tabs at the wrists of her gloves, the ones she always leaves undone. She seems like she's trying to hide another laugh. "Nope, not from space," she says. "Just from down the road." 

"Alright," Lena says. 

"And for the record, I do," Kara says. "Date women. In case that's what you were after, Miss Luthor." 

"It wasn't," Lena replies. "But thank you for keeping me informed." 

Kara bites her lip, as though biting back a smile, and looks into the fire. "Whatever you say."

+

They sit together and watch the fire. 

After a while, hotel guests start to arrive. They come and go, in pairs and threes and large groups, and Kara keeps the fire burning merrily. She answers questions about the lodge, gives advice about the best snowshoeing trails or the closest town with a decent place to get sushi. Lena sits by the fire, her hands and feet extended to take advantage of the warmth, and listens. 

This Kara is truly rooted in this place. She loves it, the trees and the small town feel and the winter sports of it all. Not that it matters. This Kara isn't Lena's Kara; she could have had any number of different lives. She is, effectively, a different person. 

(Still, Lena gets these flashes - the edge of a smile here, a certain posture there - that are impossible to ignore. They're connected, somehow. Two halves of the same coin.)

+

Eventually, the fire dies down. The last of the guests leave, and it's Kara and Lena alone with each other and the snow. 

Kara keeps looking at her. She's been so attentive tonight, even with the guests and her job. Lena feels pleasantly attended to, and she's been close to the fire long enough that she's warmed through. "So," Kara asks, stirring the last of the ashes to check that the fire is out. "What did you think of your first mountain campfire?" 

Lena smiles. "Extremely satisfactory."

Kara's mouth twists, she makes a sound between her teeth like a hiss. "Ouch. Just satisfactory." 

"I did say extremely," Lena counters. She feels flirted with. It's nothing her Kara would ever do. They're not like that, and that's - it's probably for the best that they aren't. But this Kara flirting with her is hitting the parts of Lena's heart that her friendship with Kara used to, stirring the corners of her heart that like to feel taken care of. 

"Well," Kara says. "Extremely satisfactory is better than nothing." She climbs back onto the mule, and pats the seat beside her. "Your chariot awaits, Miss Luthor." 

Lena laughs, and joins her. 

+

They ride back to the hotel in silence. 

About halfway back, Kara wraps her arm around Lena's shoulders. It does something to Lena's heart, makes it flutter and flip as she leans in to Kara's side. Her coat is soft against Lena's cheek, the solidity of Kara's body underneath it comforting. 

It feels like Kara drives a little more slowly than she did on their way out, but Lena's not about to say anything. 

When they get to Lena's room, Kara gets out of the mule first. She walks around to Lena's side of the vehicle, holds her arm out to help her down. "Can I walk you home?" she asks. 

Lena's room is less than fifty feet away. She nods. "I'd like that." 

Kara walks her down the sidewalk, Lena's arm in hers. It feels like a first date: the energy, the quiet, the way that Kara seems a bit nervous as they approach Lena's door. 

"Here we are," Lena says, once they're close enough that Lena can actually touch the knob. 

"We are," Kara says. 

Lena pauses, so close to heading inside that her back is actually touching the door. Kara smiles at her, a little lopsided. Her eyes are perfectly, impossibly blue. "Thank you for the company, Miss Luthor," she says. 

It's the way she says it, the sarcastic accent on the word _miss_ , that makes the bottom drop out of Lena's stomach in the sweetest possible way. Without thinking, Lena's hand comes up and grasps the front of Kara's coat. "Of course, Miss Danvers." 

Kara angles her head, mouth twisting in the most delicious expression. "Good night then," she says. Her eyes don't say good night. Her eyes are bright and interested and they keep dropping down to look at Lena's mouth. 

Lena's hand grips Kara's coat a little tighter. She can feel the well-worn canvas against her skin, can see and feel the way that Kara's breath leaves little puffs of warm fog in the air between them. She pulls. 

Kara doesn't even have to step forward. All she has to do is lean. She tips herself forward, one hand coming up beside Lena's head to brace against the door. Their noses bump together; Lena can feel the cold of Kara's against the cold of her own. Kara's lips are soft as she kisses first at the corner of Lena's mouth, then straight on. 

Kara's a good kisser. Lena doesn't know why that feels like a surprise. 

She's a good kisser, she's good at leaning against Lena's door, she's good at wearing a coat and being attractive and staring at Lena with a smile in her eyes. Lena shouldn't want this. She should be angry. She _is_ angry, at another version of Kara. But this version is lapping at Lena's mouth with her tongue, is humming gently with delight when Lena grips her jacket a little tighter, and it's hitting Lena between her legs with such force that it's almost overwhelming. This Kara is solid and smiles slowly and laughs loudly. Lena wants this Kara to lay her down on the nearest warm, flat surface and kiss her for hours. Lena wants to come all over this Kara's mouth. 

Kara breaks the kiss, just barely. She pulls back far enough to take a breath of fresh air, keeping herself near enough that Lena can still feel the cold tip of Kara's nose against her own. "What was that about goodnight?" Lena whispers. 

Kara makes this noise, this sound halfway between delight and frustration that starts deep in the back of her throat and ends in a high-pitched whine. "Lena," she whispers back. "You're too pretty." 

"I didn't think that was possible." 

There's something so decadent about this part. This stage of being flirted with and of being able to confidently flirt back - that _knowing_ , that she has Kara right here and that Kara wants this just as much as she does. Kara chuckles, drops her head down to rest against Lena's shoulder. She smells like wood smoke. Lena probably does, too. "You've got to tell me," she says. "If you want me to come inside tonight or not." 

Lena's heart flutters, catches with nervousness. "Maybe," she says. 

Kara kisses Lena again, deep and slow. Her tongue is gloriously warm, a sudden rush of body heat against the cold air around them and Lena's body doesn't feel like it's maybe interested. "You call me when it's yes," she whispers. "I'll be there." 

Lena releases Kara's coat. She's breathless, with desire and arousal and the heady rush of having kissed someone with the same mouth as her best friend. "I'll call," she says. "Good night, Miss Danvers." 

Lena leans against her door and watches Kara turn away, walk back towards the road. Once Kara starts to drive away, Lena reaches into her pocket for her room key. The door unlocks with a familiar, electronic-sounding click. Lena peels off her layers one by one, first her coat, then her scarf and sweater, until she's undressed enough to slide into bed. 

She doesn't want to think about Kara Danvers, but somehow, she can't think of anything else. 

+

Lena dreams about kissing Kara. 

In her dream, she's kissing her-Kara; they're talking and then they're fighting and then the scenery of the dream shifts and they're tangled together, kissing against Lena's front door. 

(She's had this dream before. She's had this dream out of anger, out of loneliness, out of sheer frustration with Kara being the way that she is: so close yet so distant at the same time.

But this time there's a new layer to it. Lena's fantasies mingle with the reality of her kiss the night before and it makes the dream full colour, surround-sound.) 

She wakes up a little warmer than usual, still half-dreaming. It's the sort of dream that gives her sense-memory - even though she knows it was a dream, it feels almost real. 

Then Lena wakes fully, and remembers. 

+

Kara stops by Lena's room at breakfast, to make plans for lunch together. Lena answers the door in her sweater, hair still unwashed and thrown in a bun until after she's finished her coffee. She doesn't miss the searching way Kara takes her in, or the quietly pleased way that she leans against the doorframe. 

"Are you asking me on a date?" Lena asks. She's got her mug cuddled to her chest, trying to protect it from the winter air coming in through the open door. "On Christmas Eve? I thought you'd have something better to do." 

Kara smiles. "Well, it is a lunch date," she says. "Maybe I've already got evening plans." 

"I'm not sure you do, Miss Danvers." 

"Well, Miss Luthor," Kara says. "Maybe I'll surprise you." 

+

They go for lunch, and if Lena's being honest, Kara does surprise her. 

A little. 

Kara is kind and gallant, and shows up wearing a clean button-down shirt and jeans that don't have sawdust on them. She looks good, and she offers Lena her arm and escorts her to the restaurant like they're going somewhere special. They eat lunch at the hotel restaurant, and the server is clearly a good friend of Kara's but it still feels - nice. 

It's been a long while since anyone did something nice just for Lena. (Or maybe that's not true. It's been a while since someone did something nice for Lena that Lena didn't second-guess. The analyzing motives, calculating the significance of little gestures and micro-expressions, it's exhausting.) She didn't realize, until just now, how much she'd been needing it. 

Lena and Kara talk. They talk about nothing. About everything. About Kara's favourite foods and Lena's shoe collection and this Earth and Lena's earth and the ways that each Kara is different. It's so nice to just talk to Kara again, without all of the history and the baggage. 

"What happened?" Kara asks, when Lena mentions how much she's missed her. 

Lena looks away, embarrassed for the first time. She doesn't know where to begin. "My, um. The Kara in my world, when she - lied to me. I reacted badly." 

"Badly how?"

Lena takes a breath to speak, but the words die on her tongue. It's strange; in the moment she felt so sure and so confident of everything and how justifiable it all was. But now, having to explain it to another version of Kara, all of her justifications feel hollow. She reacted by closing herself off and fuming for months. She reacted by planning to reveal Kara's identity against her will, in public. She reacted by building Hope and isolating herself and she doesn't even know if she believes in Non Nocere anymore and everything is such a _mess._ She doesn't know what to believe. 

There's a touch on her forearm, and before she really knows what's happening Kara's sliding her chair closer and putting her arm around Lena's shoulders. Lena blinks. Her cheeks are wet. "Like that, huh?" Kara asks. 

It's sweet. It's terribly, painfully sweet, but it suddenly feels like too much. 

"I have to go," Lena says. "Thank you for a lovely meal." 

She moves her chair back, breaking contact, and walks away. 

+

Lena doesn't regret it. 

Kara was getting too close. It was too overwhelming, too similar to last time. 

Lena refuses to be hurt like that again. 

+

It's late when she sees Kara out on the mule, delivering firewood one last time before Christmas. And it's not that she _forgives_ Kara per se, but something inside her chest feels like it's dragging her forward, toward the snow and the winter night and Kara's easy smile. 

She doesn't know what she's thinking. She's sort of not thinking at all, as she throws on her coat and shoves her bare feet into her boots. 

"Kara," she calls out. 

Kara stops short. She turns around, and there's hurt in her eyes and - alright. Fine. Lena probably deserves that. "Miss Luthor," she says, her voice clipped and professional. 

"Big evening plans, I see," Lena says. It's an olive branch, a little joke to break the ice. 

Kara barely smiles. "Work is plans," she shrugs. "What about you?" 

Lena closes her eyes. She hates this. She hates the way that embarrassment feels, the way it drapes itself over her shoulders and wriggles its way into the deepest parts of her heart. It's harder with Kara. It makes her think of her Kara, of those blue eyes bright with tears, and the way Kara fell to pieces in front of her. It makes her think about how hard it might be to stand up to her Kara and apologize, and how maybe a part of her sort of wants to. 

"Look," Lena finally says. "I was - "

"A jerk?" Kara says. She's looking Lena in the eye, but as she speaks her gaze drifts downward. She focuses intensely on a little patch of snow in front of her, worries the toe of her boot down into it until it forms a perfect crescent-shaped groove. For a moment it makes her look so much like the Kara from Lena's earth that it feels like they're the same person. 

Lena pauses. She doesn't - it's not in her, to admit to things like that. She's always got a reason, an explanation for why she behaved the way she did. But seeing Kara look so small and defeated - it feels like it doesn't matter why she did it. "Yeah," she says. "I was a jerk." 

"Thank you," Kara says. 

"And I'm sorry," Lena continues. "If that matters." 

Kara shrugs, as though perhaps it does. "I mean," she says. "I'm probably not the one you need to apologize to." 

Guilt twists behind Lena's ribs. She's right. The Kara she needs to apologize to isn't here, and she doesn't know how she'll ever get back there to make it right. "You're right. It's just - complicated. But I think if I could get home to talk to her, I'd - I wish I could make it right." 

"I'm sure someday you will," Kara says. 

There's something about her, something so familiar that Lena can't help but laugh and look away. "I swear, sometimes you look just like her." 

"So, this other Kara," she says. "Were you dating her, too?" 

The suggestion makes Lena balk. She's not. And if she's being really honest she's thought about it, but - idly. It's not a crush, but she's had the thought, when she's single and Kara's single and Kara wraps her up in one of her hugs. How maybe if Kara were attracted to women, they'd fit nicely together. "No," she says. "I don't even know if she - we're just friends." 

She can feel her cheeks getting warm at the thought, and it surprises her. This Kara struck a nerve that Lena hadn't even noticed was there.

"Too bad. I was going to ask which one of us was the better kisser," Kara says. She's got that crooked smile again, the one that makes Lena start to melt. 

Lena puts her hand on Kara's knee. She's rewarded with a look, Kara's eyes dipping down to Lena's hand and then back up, bright and flirtatious. "You know, I don't think I've kissed you enough to be able to tell." 

Kara bites her lip. "Oh, well, in that case." 

"In that case." 

Kara kisses her first. 

It's good and warm and the feel of it makes relief bloom in Lena's chest. Relief at not having to lose another friend, at getting to be kissed and at the surge of desire that starts to flutter between her legs. They kiss once, then twice, cold noses bumping together until Kara's glasses are irreparably fogged up. It's adorable. 

"So," Kara says, taking her glasses off so that she can meet Lena's eyes. "Last night it was maybe." 

Lena feels her eyebrows raise. Last night was maybe but her body wanted it to be yes, and tonight she feels like if she doesn't get laid _this minute_ she might explode. "Oh my god," Lena says. "Would you please come back to my room and fuck me." 

Kara laughs. "So, enthusiastic yes." 

There's a depth to her laugh, some low note of understanding that strikes a chord low in Lena's belly. Lena can sense the fact that Kara wants her, and as much as she doesn't want to, she needs that. "Yes," Lena says. "If that's alright." 

"Look, my shift's basically over. I can go change and then I'll meet you -"

Lena grabs a fistful of Kara's coat collar, and pulls her close again. "Don't change," Lena says. "I like you like this." 

Kara allows herself to be led across the sidewalk, over to Lena's door. She's respectful, but Lena can see the interest in her eyes, and it's making her body respond in kind, but tenfold. She hasn't had sex in months, and now she's minutes away from sex with a gorgeous wood-cutting Canadian mountain version of her gorgeous best friend and she's so eager she can hardly stand it. 

She fumbles with her key card. Her hands are clumsy with desire; a good third of her brain is consumed with the knowledge that her clit is throbbing for this and it's hard to get it to do anything else. 

They make it inside. 

Kara looks around as she toes off her boots, taking in the space. She's so respectful, so _sexy_ , and if she doesn't put her tongue in between Lena's legs in the next ten minutes Lena's pretty sure she'll die. "Nice room," Kara says, trying for small talk. 

"You've seen it before," Lena says. "Take off your coat." 

Kara makes a face, her mouth twisting with surprise and desire. "Oh," she says. "It's that kind of night." 

Lena nods. "It's that kind of night." 

Kara closes the distance between them and pulls Lena close for another kiss. This one isn't tender at all. This one is searing and messy and their teeth click together and it's _precisely_ what Lena needs. Kara's arms are around Lena's waist and as they kiss, one of her hands ventures toward the hem of Lena's sweater. 

Kara starts off slow. She's testing the waters, teasing the skin of Lena's lower back and hiking her sweater up as she moves. Her touch is electric. Lena can feel her body react, little sparks of delight rippling out from the point of contact and toward her nipples, down between her legs. Her whole body needs this. Lena needs this. 

Kara's hand travels up her back, to the level of her shoulder blades, before slipping forward. Lena's not wearing a bra; she hadn't been when she'd spotted Kara through the window. Kara smiles into their kiss, obviously delighted as her fingertips skim the top and then the lower curve of Lena's breast. "Miss Luthor," she chuckles." 

Lena rolls her eyes. "Look, it felt weird wearing someone else's bra." 

Kara makes this sound, halfway between a groan and a laugh. "What about someone else's panties?"

Lena squirms. Kara's thinking about sex, is thinking about Lena and what's inside her panties and she hopes Kara's half as good at sex as Lena's body wants her to be. She can feel her composure starting to unravel; she's a half second away from just begging Kara to kiss her clit. "You'll have to check," Lena manages. 

Kara groans again. She leans forward, putting Lena just off-balance enough that she steps back and oh. She can take the hint. Lena takes another step back, leading Kara toward the bedroom and stopping when her calves hit the edge of the mattress. "So," Kara says. 

"So," Lena replies. Her tone is a dare, and to her delight, Kara takes it. 

Kara pushes Lena by the shoulders. Her touch is gentle, it's more of a gesture than anything else. Lena doesn't so much fall as choose to sit on the bed. Kara follows. 

She leans in close, facing Lena as she moves onto the bed. The presence of her means that Lena has to choose between moving higher onto the bed or falling off; obviously the former is preferable. As Lena moves backwards, Kara advances, until Lena's on her back and spread out on the bed and Kara is there on top of her. "Is this okay?" Kara asks. 

"Yes," Lena says. She wants to say so much more, but the dirty talk her mind is coming up with is artless and demanding. She's too far gone to be creative, she just _wants._

Kara bends down. She touches her face to Lena's belly first, presses her mouth to the fuzzy softness of Lena's sweater before she starts to hike it up. The air of the room isn't really cold, but with her sweater off it's just chilled enough to give Lena goosebumps. But soon Kara's mouth is there, warm breath and nose suddenly pressed flush against Lena's belly, then her sternum, then each of her breasts in turn.

Kara pauses in her work, her nose pressed to Lena's sternum. Her face is sandwiched between Lena's breasts and she takes a breath there, inhaling deeply and exhaling a happy sigh. The warmth of her exhale is comforting, and the moment makes Lena feel held, somehow. Kara's just so transparent about enjoying Lena's body, that it feels almost too earnest to bear. 

Before Lena can feel uncomfortable, though, Kara reaches down and starts to play with the waistband to Lena's jeans. "Please," Lena whispers. 

Kara chuckles. "Eager," she mumbles against Lena's right breast. 

"Maybe," Lena says, deflecting. Of course she's eager. She's hard up and her clit is already aching and she's the perfect kind of wet: her cunt feels heavy and she can feel the gentle slide of her arousal when she moves. 

"You want me to touch you?" Kara asks. 

"I want you to eat me out," Lena counters, that dirty talk starting to spill out of her. "I want you to worship my clit like it's made of gold. I want to come all over your chin." 

It's not Lena's best work, but it doesn't seem to matter. Kara lets out an audible gasp, and moans in reply. "Oh," she says. "I can do that." 

Kara unbuttons Lena's jeans, two-handed, and tugs. They come off down to her thighs; Kara has to stand up to pull them off the rest of the way. Lena is wearing underwear, a pair of black panties that she found in the other Lena's suitcase. Kara stares. It's kind of charming. She stares like Lena's worth staring at, her gaze roaming briefly at what must be quite a sight: Lena spread out on the bed in her underwear, her sweater and camisole pushed up to display her bare breasts and middle. "Oh, Lena," Kara whispers. "I can't wait to go down on you." 

Lena feels her cunt twitch, everything clenching and then relaxing. Her clit is throbbing now, at attention and waiting to be touched. She slides her underwear off in reply. 

Kara kneels. She's down on the floor beside the bed, at eye level with Lena's cunt. "Come here," she whispers. "I want to taste you." 

Lena lets herself be positioned: her thighs resting on Kara's shoulders, her feet hanging down behind her back. She's spread open, slick and hot and so ready to be touched. Kara kisses Lena's thigh, experimentally. Lena shivers. 

Kara kisses the same spot again, a little more deeply this time. Lena shivers again. The third time, Kara kisses Lena's thigh and sucks at the skin there, force and pressure that feels _wonderful_. The sensation is hovering on the edge of intense and sharp, and Lena knows what Kara's doing. She's leaving a mark, kissing Lena until she bruises. 

Lena doesn't mind. 

Kara starts with her fingers, first. She runs them across the seam of her outer lips, up towards the soft folds where her labia are covering her clit, and then down again. Her touch is delicate and exploratory, but it's enough to make Lena shudder and sigh with anticipation. "Kara," Lena whispers. 

In reply, Kara slips her fingers in between Lena's lower lips, into the wetness pooling there. Her touch is electric. It's everything Lena's been aching for, it's friction and sensation tantalizingly close to the place where Lena needs Kara's fingers to be. Kara drags her touch upward, bringing slick fingertips around the top of Lena's clit, and oh. Oh, _fuck._ She's needed that even more. 

Kara runs her thumb across Lena's clit, her touch experimental. Lena arches her back and groans. 

There's something about being explored like this and knowing that Kara can't just feel but can _see_ the wetness of her. Kara can watch the way her inner walls are flexing with delight at every touch, can see the way her cunt is wet and swollen for her, and it makes it even hotter. "You ready?" Kara murmurs. "You want me to kiss you?" 

" _Kara_ ," Lena whines, breathlessly exasperated. "If you don't go down on me right this minute -" 

She doesn't get to finish. She's hardly even started her sentence when Kara ducks her head forward and runs her tongue against Lena's clit and her mind goes entirely blank. She cries out, this beautiful sound that's halfway between words and meaningless noise, high-pitched from the back of her throat. Kara is just as good at this as Lena had hoped. 

Kara works her tongue across Lena's clit in broad, slow strokes. Lena's body responds with an eagerness that would be embarrassing, if Lena didn't need it so badly. Her cunt wants nothing more than Kara's mouth like this, warm and nimble and lapping at her clit with the perfect balance of delicacy and power. She feels her cunt flex, then start to drool wet and warm against Kara's chin. 

Kara moans into her cunt and it's the best thing Lena's felt in months. 

"Fuck," Lena whispers. "Fuck me I'm going to -" 

Then she can't speak, because Kara's tongue does something wonderful and it makes Lena's voice jump an octave. Her voice is just whimpers now, high-pitched nonsense as Kara works at her clit. Kara's tongue is a thing of beauty. Kara's tongue is a treasure, and she's using it full-force against Lena's clit. Lena's so close. 

Kara does that thing again, something that sends a surge of warm, shivering, tingling delight through Lena's whole lower body. Lena's orgasm hits her with sudden, beautiful force. She screams with delight and lets herself tumble over the edge, a wave of delight that stems from the place where her clit meets the tip of Kara's tongue and breaks outward. She comes for what feels like minutes, the initial wave and then ripples that surge through her, make her hips buck down against Kara's mouth over and over again. 

Eventually, Lena's body stops shuddering. She's exhausted, boneless. Her ears are ringing. It's perfect. Kara's still between her legs, and she presses another kiss to Lena's inner thigh. This one is messy, wet from Lena's cunt and Lena chuckles as Kara smears a trail of it across Lena's thigh with her chin. "As requested," Kara says. 

" _Fuck_ ," is all Lena can think to huff out in reply. 

Kara leans back, eases Lena's legs off of her shoulders one at a time. Lifting her legs to rest on the bed feels impossible, but somehow Lena manages. She rolls over, her body heavy and indolent, and Kara follows. She drapes herself across Lena's back, warm and comforting. "You're so beautiful," she whispers. "I can't believe you just fell into my life like this." 

"You're so good," Lena whispers back. "I needed that so much." 

"So it was good, then?" Kara asks. Her nose is pressed to Lena's nape and she angles her chin forward to punctuate her question with a kiss. 

Lena laughs. "Wasn't it obvious?" 

Kara chuckles, "It's still nice to hear." 

Kara's arm is draped across Lena's waist. Lena finds the strength to raise Kara's hand to her mouth, and kiss her palm. "Excellent work," she mumbles, too deep into her afterglow to enunciate. "Full marks." 

Kara giggles behind her. "Do you think I'll get a turn?" she says. "My clit's made of gold as well, and it needs worshipping." 

"As soon as I can work my tongue," Lena replies. "It's all yours."

+

Lena wakes up. 

She reaches out, her hand feeling for Kara, but all she finds is the edge of her mattress. Her eyes fly open: she's in her own bed. 

She's in her apartment, the one on her earth. The sheets are her own, the duvet cover familiar satin underneath her touch. The sun is streaming in from the window, and her phone is there on the nightstand. She checks the time: 8am. It's December 25th. 

She has three missed calls and several dozen missed messages, with good reason - in this universe, she's apparently slept for two straight days.

Lena gets out of bed. 

The bathroom is her bathroom, everything exactly where it should be. 

There's a bruise on the inside of her thigh. Lena runs her thumb against it, presses down. She has a sudden flash of memory, of Kara's head between her legs and Kara's mouth against her thigh and it's impossible. It should be impossible. 

Kara. She has to call Kara.


End file.
